Youngest Daughter of Troy
by Iris Aquarius
Summary: This is a series of drabbles following the actions of Polyxena, the youngest daughter of the King of Troy during the Trojan War. It is narrated by the men who are close to her. It's a little different, please R & R to tell me what you think!
1. Priam

Priam:

I am Priam, king of Troy. How shall I be remembered by the ages? By this insufferable war that has lasted nearly a decade? Or by my fifty sons and fifty daughters that fill the palace that I grew up in. How does a man keep them all straight? With one hundred of them and their spouses and children. I am an old man, now. Weary with age and ware. I just want to be learn the names of my children. Why do I sit endless days on this roof starring across at endless campfires and Greek sails. I know the names of my enemy better then I know the names of my kin.

"Rest, Father." I hear the command and turn to find a daughter most familiar to me. Polyxena. Youngest of my daughters and born from my dearest Hecuba. She is my comfort as my bones turn fragile and my heart weak.

She's lovely, this daughter of mine just on the cusp of maidenhood. Who would have thought that I could produce such a beautiful maiden. She's got eyes that will drive the boys crazy. Dark and captivating surrounded by thick dark lashes. I just hope she lives to make the boys come calling her name. I want her to grow old and have her own beautiful daughters. I want this war to end.

"I'm serious, Father!" She puts a hand on her hip and the other reaches out for me. She's as strong willed as her brother Hector and just as sweet.

How can I help not giving her a hand and following her direction. I do anything for the sweetest of my daughters, she just wants to take care of her family. She's cared for us since the beginning of this war and will until the end. I hope.


	2. Troilus

Troilus:

I've been ordered to accompany my youngest sister to fetch water from a fountain. To protect her, Hector tells me. Sure. That's why he keeps me from where the real action is. How am I supposed to get any glory if I'm locked up behind the tall walls of Troy?

I am turning twenty years old soon, by Zeus's Lighting! Twenty. Hector had married and fought many battles before he even approached the age of twenty. It's not fair. I'm just as brave as him. Just as strong! Or I would be if they let me use anything other than wooden practice swords.

Ever since the damnable oracle told the Greeks that Troy would not be defeated if I live to the age of twenty. Now it's my duty to be left behind with the elderly and the girls. I know my brothers laugh at me as they ride off. Some of them are younger than me! How can I win Cressida's love if I'm locked up here.

Polyxena holds my hand as we leave from a safe gate. They wouldn't trust us out of the city if it wasn't absolutely safe. She's not scared. She just wants to tell me she loves me. She looks up at me and smiles with the sweetest smile and I can't help but smile back. How can this sister of mine love all her brothers like she does. She knows I am a coward who can't fight but she still looks at me with the same love she gives Hector, the best of all of Priam's sons.

The raiding party that surrounded us took me by complete surprise. I heard Polyxena's cry of surprise and ushered her behind me, but didn't know what to do after that. My heart hammered in my ears and my breath came to quick. I was frozen in front of these monsters with shining armor and sharp, sharp blades.

I couldn't even move when I heard my sister cry out when they grabbed her. Not even when one laughing soldier struck me through the chest with a cold blade. It was the legendary Achilles, I recognizes his flashing armor from the battlements of Troy. I had watched him fight day after day. I felt the warm blood pour out over the cold metal but didn't feel the pain.

All that ran through my head was my sister's shout. I couldn't even protect my dearest sister. I barely even raised my sword. I wasn't Hector. I didn't have his courage or his strength. Maybe it was good they left me behind all these years. I couldn't even protect Polyxena, let alone Troy.

It all started to fade into black… Troy, Polyxena, Hector, courage, the oracle, Troy…..


	3. Achilles

Achilles:

The girl was part of my booty. I was the one to kill the young Trojan prince and therefore his sister is mine to keep and use. Does she realize how lucky she is? At least I won't hit her and rape her until she's useless like some of the men here.

She's strong. I'll admit that. I thought she was going to be an annoyance when I heard the wild cry that she uttered when I cut down the prince of the prophecy. She hasn't made a sound since. She just marches beside my horse with her head up. Though her face shines in the fading sun as Helios's light illuminated the tears running down her face. I wonder if any one will cry for me when I must follow Hermes to the Underworld.

She's beautiful. I've heard of her before this. Supposed to be one of the most beautiful of all of that heathen king's many daughters. Supposed to rival Helen herself or her sister Cassandra, who tempted the gods. She's just coming into it though. And she doesn't look a thing like Helen. So who can trust the rumors.

Where Helen is light, this girl is dark. Where Helen is soft, this girl is sharp.

If her dark curls weren't tangled, it would be beautiful. The kind of hair that one tangles ones fingers in while making love. The kind of hair that would curl around her bare shoulders and hide her from immodesty.

I never saw Helen as that desirable. She was beautiful. That can't be denied. The golden beauty of Helen is legendary and left even me breathless. But I can't imagain waking next to her after a night of sweet pleasure. Helen's beauty is a the cold beauty of statues and gods. This girl's, this princess's, beauty is a seduction of it's own. I just want to softly kiss those plush lips and feel them respond. I want to make those dark eyes hazy with pleasure.

She walks beside me without glancing my way. Her tear stained face follows the path of the sun as it sets in the far west. Do you think she'll ever let me kiss those tears off her face?


	4. Deiophobus

Deiphobus:

He killed my brother. The best of us. Not just of Priam's son, but all of Troy. Who could find a man better than Hector? Who is going to lead us now that Hector is gone? Hector was a our general, our future kind, our hope.

How can I not hate Achilles with all that I am. Hope is all that we have as mortals. It was all Pandora left us with when she opened the box of evils. Achilles killed my hope. All I want to do is kill him.

At least Polyxena has been returned. Along with Hector's body so that we can bury him properly. When I saw the whoreson dragging my brother's body around our city the fury I felt almost drove me insane. My brothers held me back.

Why is she tell me that he was kind to her. That he loved her. Achilles is not a man. He is the enemy. He is the one who killed Hector. Why does she cry for the man who killed our brother? He isn't dead. Hector is.

She prattles about the man who gave her freedom because her tears pained him. All he wanted to do was make her smile again. He's poisoned my sweetest sister's mind with his words of honey. She's confused and hurt. That's why she says these things about the monster.

He told her everything. His childhood. His mother. His time spent dressed as a woman. What man would suffer such humility? He ran from a war at bequest of his mother. Why do they call him a hero? He is a coward. A monster.

Her words are so soft when she talks of him. It speaks well of my strength that I can hold my tongue and comfort my sister over a man who I think poisons the air around him. She tells me of his calloused hands and his soft lips. To think that despicable craven touched my littlest sister. Only more reason to hate him.

He told her about his one weakness. A heel, that if pierced would rob him of life. His heel! The invincible Achilles has a weak heel. I could laugh if it wouldn't frighten my sister.

I look her in the eyes and try to wipe the tears from her beautiful face. Even red and splotchy with puffed eyes and unclean from a long day, my baby sister is lovely. I want to protect her and hurt the man who harmed her, whether she realizes it or not.

After she leaves I call a messenger in.

"Tell him that Polyxena want to meet him by the temple of Apollo after her devotions. Convince him that she needs him."


	5. Paris

Paris:

I am the reason this war began. I can feel them blaming me. All I have to do is see the harshness in their eyes. That is why I am here now. I will finish this and end the war. Without Achilles these Greeks are done for. Right?

My brother, Deiphobus has promised that Achilles would come and all I had to do was hit him in the heel with an arrow. Somehow, little Polyxena is involved. When I was taken back from the hills and welcomed into Priam's home, she was the first to call me brother. Again, she was the first to give me an honest hug when I returned with Helen on my arm. She's always been my favorite sister. I hope that Deiphobus isn't to blinded by Hector's death to hurt our sister. He's been nearly crazy since Hector's death. They were closer than any of us, though. So I shouldn't comment on his greif.

There is Polyxena now, leaving from Apollo's temple. I'm glad to see she is clean and healthy once again. When I saw her all sorrowful eyes and pale skin after she was taken back from Achilles tent I was so worried about her. But here she is with the roses back in her cheeks and the curl back in her dark hair.

I hadn't seen him before, he was leaning against the temple in shadow, but I watch as Achille leaves the shadows and calls my sisters name. She turns as if burned. Blasted Deiphobus. He obviously hasn't told her anything.

I can't believe my eyes as she calls his name back and runs into his arms. That monster is kissing my little sister and the anger in my heart makes me take action before my mind tells me anything else. I take an arrow and pull it back with all my strength. Just a moment taken for sighting and it's loose. Singing through the air like a whistled death lament.

It's a perfect shot and I see Achilles fall. Polyxena is yelling, screaming for aid. I've never seen her so discomposed. She is wise where my other sisters are excitable. I can't help myself but leap out of my place of hiding and rush to her side.

"You did this!" She screamed at me. "You killed him!"

She was like a wild thing tearing out her hair and beating her breast. How many times had I watched Hector calm even the wildest of stallions with just his voice. I tried to pitch it low and smooth like his. Slowly, she let me draw closer and hug her to my chest. My poor sister. Fell in love with the wrong side. My poor little sister.


	6. Pyrrhus

Pyrrhus:

The blood of Priam had dried on my robes as his youngest daughter was led ceremonially to me. I was the one granted the privilege of killing the whore who had killed my father. Though her hand wasn't the one who shot the arrow, for it was her brother's. She was the one who used seduced Achilles into telling her how to bring about his downfall. She hadn't been gone from the Greek camp long at all before she betrayed the man who loved her.

My anger is even more poignant than Odysseus's or the other heroes that I fight beside. She stole my father from me. I had never met the man, only heard the tales from my mother who he loved while living as a woman in my grandfather's court. It's why I am called Pyrrhus, the male version of Pyrrha, for that was the name he went under while living under my grandfather's roof. My real name is Neoptolemus, but only my mother calls me that.

She comes towards me with her head raised and her eyes burning. It's clear to see how my father fell victim to those dark eyes and soft lips. She was beautiful. Underneath that gift of Aphrodite is a poisoned heart. She is a snake that seduces and then kills. Her actions speak more than any words she could mutter to me.

I will not be seduced by velvet eyes and chestnut curls. I am not as weak as my father. Vengeance is the reason I am here and what I shall care out today. So many others had met their vengeful end at the tip of my sword. What do I care that this child of beauty adds to the list.

So here we are at the foot of Achilles grave waiting for her death. A solider told the story of how Achilles' shade came to him and ordering that Polyxena was to be sent to the afterworld at the foot of his grave. Otherwise, no Greek would find his way home. The winds would always be against him.

I would have found this bitch and slit her throat whether asked to or not. She had stolen a father from me. Not to mention killed the greatest hero Hellas has ever seen.

She stands before me in her gown of white, what a mockery of the virginal color, and meets my eyes with her doe eyes. They ask for nothing. They just wait for me and my blade. I take a breath before those soft lips can seduce me from my path of vengeance.

With a quick slash, the deed is done. She gurgles as her life blood flows from her neck and stains the white of her chiton red. Dark red. I watch her cave to her knees and slowly rearrange her chiton around her so she is decently covered before falling to the ground in death. This whore is worried of her image once she is gone from this world?

I try to scoff but the cries of Trojan women's grief drown me out. They scream for their youngest princess even if she is a dishonored whore. Their cries make me look at this sacrificed girl once more and I hear Agememnon's plea against this once more, "This is nonsense. Killing for the sake of killing. She is an innocent. Like my Iphiginia. I can not let this happen again. One was too much." He was drowned out by others even though he is the strongest king of us all. Was he right? Was she just an innocent?


End file.
